


Triad - Alpha

by AvocadoLove



Series: Marriage Triad - Alpha, Beta, Omega [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Fingerfucking, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Group Marriage, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Rough Sex, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5475044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvocadoLove/pseuds/AvocadoLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where it takes three to make a marriage, Steve and Bucky find each other early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triad - Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> This will be told in three separate planned stories. Alpha, Beta, and Omega. 
> 
> Slight warning for rough first time sex. Steve and Bucky are of age in this world (17).

It was a known fact that most mate bonds for a proper triad were formed in the early years.

Beatrice Barnes had a sharp eye for these sorts of things. As Omega, she was expected to. She couldn't help but notice how her oldest male child, James, looked after the sickly Rogers boy so sweetly. How he protected him. Much later, she would see it for what it was: an Omega taking care of his Alpha, and how little Steve would be the head of whatever mischief they were involved in. But in those early years, she saw only what she wanted.

"They're thick as thieves, those two," Mrs. Barnes said one afternoon as she was doing the wash.

"Aye," Sarah Rogers agreed. She was helping with the scrubbing, not as expertly, but managing. As an Alpha, Sarah simply wasn't suited for domestic duties.

There was hardly a triad in the neighborhood that hadn't lost someone in the war. Sarah was unlucky enough to lose both her Beta and Omega, leaving her alone to care for little Steve. Sarah was a strong Alpha in her own right, but it took three to raise a child. Beatrice, taking pity, helped out where she could.

On the other side of the little courtyard, three year old Bucky and Stevie were making 'pies' out of mud in a puddle, patting goops into little piles and pretending to feed one another. Mud would surely go flying sooner or later, and Beatrice and Sarah wanted the linens safely hung by then.

"It was like that with George and I," Beatrice continued, watching Sarah out of the corner of her eye. "He was my whole world, and when I fell into my first heat, our parents were sensible enough to let him to be the first to try the bond."

Sarah didn't react. Alphas could be stoic, and this was surely a painful subject for her. "Joseph was my Beta," she said at last, with a decisive nod. "I kissed him and I _felt_ him. Deep in my bones. We met Deloris not a year later." She snapped a sheet straight, hung it, then turned to Beatrice, her blue eyes assessing. "You're suggesting we try to match our boys up, eh?"

Beatrice smiled. "Look at them, Sarah. The good Lord made them for one another. And when it's Stevie's time for heat--"

"Or Bucky's," Sarah said, her voice a touch tart with a touch of Ireland. "They could be an Alpha and Beta pair. You cannae tell this young."

"Of course," Beatrice soothed. She didn't believe it for a second, but sensed she was getting what she wanted. The way to deal with Alphas was to let them think they were making the decisions.

There was a small shriek over where the boys were playing. Steve had pounced on Bucky and they rolled together in the dirt, getting their clothes filthy, but it was bath night tonight and Beatrice didn't mind.

Sarah's eyes went unfocused as she smiled at the boys, and Beatrice knew she was reliving her own memories.

"Yes," Sarah said. "Those two have ever been fast friends. They should have first rights to try the bond, whatever may become of them."

 

 

****

14 years later

****

 

Ever since Steve had known him (forever) Bucky had been healthy as a horse. So it took him completely by surprise, then indignation when Bucky didn't show up for school one day.

Worse, when he stopped by Bucky's house after school, his Omega mother, didn't let him inside.

"He's not taking visitors today," Beatrice Barnes said.

Steve had to battle back the sudden urge to shove past her. It helped that he had to look up to meet her eyes. Bucky inherited his height from Beatrice and his Beta mother, god rest her soul.

"What do you mean? Is he sick? I won't catch nothing I haven't already gotten already," he added bravely.

Her lips twitched, but she still stood to block his path. "Perhaps later. Run along to your mother now."

Irritation surged through him, and he had to clench his jaw to stop himself from saying something unforgivably rude. He'd been feeling this way a lot recently, as if he were on a hair trigger. Only the knowledge that his mother was also home today let him turn away. He had to check on her: Maybe she fell sick, too? If she was, it was important that Steve contribute, to help out with the household. Betas were traditionally breadwinners, but he and his Ma only had each other and needed every penny they could scrounge up.

But he couldn't get his mind off Bucky. The urge to go back was so strong he made himself run home the whole way so he wouldn't turn around -- well, until his lungs started to tighten up. He ran part of the way, at least.

When he stepped through his door, he was surprised to see his Alpha Ma on the sitting room couch. Her smile was strained as she drew him into a hug.

"Ma? What's wrong?" he asked, pulling back.

"Nothing, dear. We're just going to--to visit your Bucky."

 _Your Bucky?_ Steve thought, catching the odd phrasing. "I tried already. His Omega mother wouldn't let me see him--" A thought stopped him short. "Is he okay, Ma? Is he badly ill?"

"He'll be right as rain, I'm sure, soon enough." She stepped aside and gestured behind her before he could respond. "I've laid out clothing for you. Change quickly."

She used a brisk no-nonsense Alpha tone with him, and Steve knew it would be pointless to question further. Obediently, he took his freshly ironed clothing in his room to change. It was his best shirt he wore for church, and his newest trousers. What in the world was going on?

His confusion only deepened when he and his Ma walked back to the Barnes' house. Bucky's Omega mother, his Alpha Father, and three little sisters were all outside, chatting. Almost as if waiting for him. George Barnes turned to look hard at Steve in an assessing way he'd never had before. Steve could have sworn he heard a low growl come from the Alpha. Then Steve's Ma stepped between them to speak to Mrs. Barnes, breaking the moment.

Why in the world was Bucky's family outside their home? Was Bucky contagious? Sick and in pain, alone?

That thought was more than Steve could bear. He glanced at the adults, who seemed to be making strained small-talk, pointedly ignoring him, then walked resolutely towards the front door. He could swear he felt Alpha Barnes' gaze on the back of his neck, but he made no move to stop him.

Steve stepped into the house and scented something... odd in the air. A rich, complex smell. Slightly musky, but strangely alluring. Ignoring it, Steve stepped forward and called out, "Buck?"

No answer.

He moved quickly through the hallway and to the small bedroom on the right. As the only young male in the family, Bucky was lucky enough to not share his room with his sisters.

Steve tapped on the door, then opened it without waiting for an answer.

Bucky looked up from the bed. "Steve?" he asked, sitting up. He didn't look particularly sick, though he wore a stark-white long shirt. Almost robe-like. "They sent you in?"

"I came to visit--are you alright?" Steve came to Bucky's bedside, his heart thumping hard. It smelled... wonderful in the room. He dragged in a deep breath, the rich musky smell tickling the back of his throat. Was that coming from Bucky? It was amazing.

Bucky opened his mouth, then shut it again. He slumped back, resting on the back of his elbows. "Don't know," he said. "It's all strange, Stevie."

"What do you mean?" Without thinking, Steve reached up to brush back a wild lock of hair from Bucky's forehead.

Bucky shut his eyes and shivered, chin tilting up. Resting back on his elbows, the pose put his silhouette in display.

Steve's mouth went dry. His fingers tightened, twisted up into Bucky's hair. Suddenly, Steve _had_ to know for sure if the delicious scent was coming from him. Steve tilted Bucky's head back to expose his throat. Bucky let out a shivery breath as Steve bent to scent along side Bucky’s neck, his heart thundering in his chest. This close, the alluring aroma rising from his skin was intense, intoxifying. Steve wanted to lick the sheen of sweat glistening his skin.

He wanted to bite at the soft flesh. Mark Bucky.

It took everything he had to pull away, his heart thundering.

“No,” Bucky gasped. He leaned up as if to follow Steve, but was held by the hand in his hair. “Don’t leave.”

It hit Steve all at once -- it should have before, but it seemed like every since he stepped inside the house -- caught Bucky’s scent -- a part of him had existed outside himself. Bucky's odd garb-- he was dressed in a long white robe. Ceremonial. Virginal.

“Buck… you’re in heat,” he realized.

Bucky met his eyes, and Steve read misery in his gaze. He swallowed, nodding as much as he could with Steve still holding onto his hair -- Steve hadn’t let go, and Bucky didn’t ask him to.

“I think so," Bucky said. "It’s awful, Steve. Plain awful.”

“But you’re supposed to be Alpha, and I…” He trailed off, not needing to finish. Skinny. Weak. Sickly. No wonder Alpha Barnes had looked at him like he wasn’t fit to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

Bucky, though, gave a breathless laugh. “Omega Ma said at least I’ll be fit enough to bear lots of children. But…” he licked his lips and looked right at Steve. “I’m hard as a rock, but can’t get myself off, Stevie. I’ve tried all night.”

“Bucky,” he said reproachfully, but had to force back a stab of desire that twitched his own half-hard dick in interest. “Don’t talk like that. It--it’s not right...”

Maybe Bucky could see his heart wasn’t in on the rebuke.

“Look at me,” Bucky said, and to Steve’s equal horror and thrill, he pushed down the thin blanket to his knees. His erection tented the robe obscenely. “Been like this for hours, but I can’t do nothing ‘bout it.”

Steve’s eyes dragged down, then, with great effort, up again. “What do you want me to do, Buck?” he asked quietly.

Again, Bucky swallowed. “Maybe you could… sorta hold me, while… while I...?”

The image of that, of holding Bucky while he jerked off, rolled through Steve in a wave of desire. This was wrong. Bucky was his _friend_. His very best friend, who was in discomfort. Maybe… (this was wrong. So wrong)...but maybe if Steve kept his clothes on? Then it would be more proper?

He wanted to glance to the door, step out and try to think without the scent of Bucky's heat in the air, but he couldn’t do so much as look away.

With great effort, Steve untwisted his hand from Bucky’s hair. He heard his voice as if from very far away as he said, “Take your robe off.” His voice had a note of command to it.

Staring at him a little wide-eyed, Bucky sat up and tugged the fabric over his head. He was, Steve thought, mouth dry, like a present unwrapping for him to enjoy. Bucky was always well built, and Steve had seen him naked before. But not like this; Flushed and hard, but oddly shy and seductive.

Steve touched his hand on his flat belly, and Bucky lifted slightly into the touch.

“C’mere, Punk,” Bucky muttered, drawing Steve into the small bed with him. Steve couldn't resist -- couldn't find words to speak. Couldn't _not_ touch, run his fingers over Bucky’s skin. He was so soft, but hard in the right places, and hot with heat fever.

Steve buried his nose under Bucky’s neck and breathed in -- didn’t realize he was rubbing his clothed erection against Bucky's hip until he heard the Omega moan.

Steve nudged Bucky’s knees open with one of his own, felt Bucky undulating against him.

“Steve, that’s... you're... it's good," Bucky gasped, then shook his head. "Steve..."

There was… something he was supposed to do, but Steve couldn’t think. His world had shrunk down to the heat hot Omega, listening to his breathy groans. Naked and hard and moving against Steve -- _with_ Steve in a rhythm he didn’t even know he knew until now.

Steve’s shirt was a sweaty, restrictive thing that clung to his back. He pulled away from Bucky only long enough to rip it off. Then he was back, nipping at one of the glands under Bucky’s jaw, his collarbone, mouthing down Bucky’s chest. The taste of his skin made him thrust hard against Bucky, who let out a half-pained sound.

“What?” Steve asked, pulling back and cupping Bucky’s face.

Bucky shook his head. Sweat or a tear clumping his eyelashes. “It's good but it hurts,” he groaned, and guided Steve’s hand down to his arousal, flushed and hard.

His erection felt like velvet over steel. Steve ran his fingers up and down Bucky’s shaft, and Bucky arched like he’d touched a live wire.

“Please,” he begged. “Steve… please. It hurts. S’not enough…”

It wasn’t. Steve ripped at the lacings of his own boots -- why on Earth had he worn them to bed?--, and kicked down his own pants and underwear.

Then it was skin against skin. His omega desperate and writhing, begging for relief. Steve wanted him so hard it was like a punch to the gut. He knew what he needed to do.

He was smaller, but he guided Bucky to flip over, one returning to twist in hair. Till he knelt on his hands and knees.

“Yes,” Bucky whispered, then sank to his elbows, legs spread, ass up in presentation. “Please, please…”

Steve didn’t think. He was beyond that now. One hand braced on Bucky’s hip, the other entangled in his hair to keep his head down, ass up. He pressed into Bucky's hole. And _in_. Bucky’s body was warm and wet and perfect.

Steve made a shocked sound and thrust hard-- he couldn’t _not_ do it.

Bucky cried out, jerking in surprise. But Steve tightened his hold, keeping him in place, growled, and pushed further in rough snaps until his hips were flush with the back of Bucky’s thighs. Then he drew out and back in.

The Omega's moans mixed with Steve's growls that bubbled up from his chest. They were making a lot of noise, but he’d stopped noticing -- stopped _thinking_ \-- long ago.  Steve dropped down, covering the Omega's body with his own, pistoning mindlessly into that perfect heat. No finesse. Hard and brutal and claiming.

The flesh around him tightened, and the Omega made wet gasping sound, fully bowed and submissive and _perfect_.

Orgasm crashed through Steve's body like a cresting wave. He stilled as deep into the Omega as he could go, and felt himself expand.

The Omega made a startled noise as if choking on air, fingers curling into the sheets. Steve knew he had to keep him there, keep them locked for as long as possible. So he bit down, hard, at the nape of the Omega’s neck.

Bucky screamed and tried twist away, but Steve was deep seeded in every way possible. Pressing him down, knotting him up, binding them. Finally, the Omega stilled, then sagged, accepting Steve’s dominance.

But Steve didn’t relax. Locked as they were, Steve knew he was vulnerable. He couldn't protect his Omega from others who could be attracted to his heat-scent. Steve kept one eye to the bedroom door. If anyone tried to take Bucky away from him, he’d kill them. Rip them limb from limb.

Bucky's blood tasted like ambrosia. Steve licked the bite, pressing his own essence into Bucky's wound.

Any other Alpha would know this one was his.

“Stevie,” Bucky said an eternity later, “you’re growling,”

He didn’t know why that snapped him back into his own mind. “Buck,” he said, his voice thick. He licked his lips and tasted blood on them. Bucky’s blood. “Are you… You okay?”

“Some Alpha idiot has his knot in my ass, and I can barely breathe. I'm dandy.”

Hurriedly, Steve rocked back to take some of his weight off Bucky -- not easy, locked together as they were -- but it was enough for Bucky to come up to his elbows.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder. “You bit me.”

“You’re mine,” Steve said dumbly. The mark was still bleeding red on Bucky’s nape, and he never intended to _hurt_ him, but he had to mark him. He _had_ to.

“Yeah,” Bucky said softly as if he’d read his mind. “I’m glad it was you.” He looked away, a blush of all things coming to his face.

 _I’m an Alpha_ , Steve thought in amazement. Cautiously, he reached down below to touch where they joined. Bucky shivered, so Steve did it again, pressing where Bucky body was stretched tight around his knot.

Bucky bowed his head, bite mark on full display. It was beautiful. “You’re going to rev my engine, you keep that up.”

Steve didn’t stop. He liked the way Bucky looked, bowed down before him. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, cringing a little about how he’d thrust so hard into him without care.

“A little, at first. Then it started feeling so good it didn’t matter.”

Steve leaned over, kissing under the bite mark. “Sorry.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing… aw, Stevie, don’t soften up now.”

But it was too late. The shame that he’d hurt Bucky had driven the last of the arousal from his mind, deflating his knot. Steve slipped out, ignoring Bucky’s slight whine of protest.

They shifted around, laying together on the small bed, face to face. His Omega. Bucky was _his_ Omega.

“Guess we’re going to get married now,” Steve said. That was kind of weird.

“Guess so,” Bucky agreed, then reached forward and pressed his lips to Steve's. Neither one of them had a lot of experience kissing, and they bumped noises and clacked teeth a few times, but Steve figured he was doing alright when Bucky rubbed against him, half hard again.

Steve wasn’t ready for another round so soon, but since Bucky was his now anyway, he should figure out what made him tick. “Open your legs for me, Buck.”

Bucky did better, pressing his front to Steve and winding a calf around his back.

Steve reached around to touch his hole, felt him slick and wet. Then kissing Bucky, daringly, explored in.

"Always noticed... you had good hands," Bucky gasped, shamelessly. "Long fingers."

"Yeah?" Steve knew he wore a silly grin, but couldn't help it. Bucky was beautiful -- flushed, eyes dilated with arousal. Steve kissed him deep just because he could, and crooked two fingers inside Bucky just so and rubbed up.

Bucky was wild for it. “Stevie… Steve… Alpha, please,” he begged, pressing back on Steve’s fingers, pressing up against him, writhing like he wasn’t sure what he wanted, his eyes wide and blown.

Steve kissed him again, crawled on top and held him down to finger him until he came, moaning, in Steve’s mouth.

 

****

 

They stayed in bed for what felt like ages while Bucky’s heat ran its course. Steve never let himself fully lose his mind like he’d done the first time. He was more careful with his Omega, but still liked to lick at bite mark as he knotted him up. The pleasure/pain would send Bucky off sometimes a couple of times, especially if Steve managed to knot him at just the right angle to press on that one good spot inside.

Food was left out -- sandwiches and water -- right outside the bedroom door. But other than that, Bucky's family had vacated the house to give them privacy. So the two of them ate, explored each other’s bodies, and talked about the future.

“I hope it’s awhile,” Bucky said, sleepily in Steve’s arms, “till we meet our Beta. I'm not ready to pump out kids yet.”

Steve liked the idea of children with Bucky’s hair and eyes. He liked the idea, too, of joining with a Beta to learn Bucky’s mind as well as his body. But…

“Yeah,” he agreed, then grinned when Bucky moved tantalizingly against Steve’s hip.

“Hey, maybe stroke my dick when you knot up in me, like last time?” Bucky suggested innocently. “That was aces.”

Steve pulled him closer, mouthing his neck ,which had an impressive amount of bruises by his glands. “You squeeze down on me when you come,” he confessed. “I love it.”

Bucky chuckled. “I know.”

 

****

 

Father O’Malley was a stern looking preacher, who insisted on meeting with the two of privately before officiating the hastily arranged wedding. Common, after an Omega’s successful first heat.

O'Malley examined Bucky’s healing bite mark, looked over his glasses at Steve, and said, “And you did this, while you were in union with this Omega?”

“Yes sir,” Steve said, keeping his face blank through effort of will at the word ‘union’. He sensed more than saw Bucky’s smirk.

“Hmm. Naturally, you will both seek out a female Beta, to balance the Triad.”

“Yes, sir,” they said, together.

“The Holy Triad,” O'Malley said with great importance, “is not something to be taken lightly. It is known through all religions -- even the heathen ones. The Alpha, head of the marriage. Protector and moral core. The Omega, body of the marriage who nourishes and provides offspring. The Beta, heart of the marriage, emotional balance and provider.”

“Yes Father O’Malley,” Steve answered for both of them. These were things he knew, had been taught since he was old enough to understand what Marriage was.

Alpha: Protector and Moral Core. It was a heavy responsibility. He squared his shoulders, ready to take it on.

“Then I will bless your marriage,” O’Malley said.

They were married on a Tuesday. Bucky looked resplendent in his white Omega tunic. Steve thought he looked sharp in his dark rented suit. He gazed into Bucky’s eyes, and tried not to laugh at the look on Bucky’s face when Father O’Malley officially forgave them for the ‘sin of fortification’ before marriage.

Steve didn't need a beta to read his mind.

 _Just the one sin_? Bucky seemed to say.

Steve squeezed Bucky's hand, and didn’t let go until they were far out of the church, walking down the steps to their cheering family and friends.

Bucky, flushed with happiness and excitement was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He was going to be a good Alpha for him, and their future Beta. The best.

 

****

 

Marriage didn’t mean a perfect existence. Bucky could be sharp tongued when he was annoyed, and Steve knew he had a hot head. Being an Alpha didn’t help. Being a tiny Alpha, who became bedridden with a fever almost every winter, and who couldn’t hold down a job long enough to support his Omega was a sore point to his own pride. Steve couldn't work while he was sick, and it seemed he was _always_ sick.

Bucky never complained. He was strong and healthy, and took work usually reserved for tough, brutish Alphas -- manual labor at the docks.

They’d been married goin’ on five years. By all rights Bucky should be home and happily pregnant. But Bucky swore up and down he didn’t want children yet, and besides they had a hard enough time scrounging up food for themselves. Things would get better, once they found their Beta.

Beta girls tended to be career oriented (all Betas were), and if they were initially impressed by Bucky, few of them looked twice when Steve came around.

Then the war broke out.

All able young males including barren Omegas, were called to serve. They were even taking select Alpha Females, the previous generation having proved themselves honorably in the Great War years previous.

Everyone was going to off to fight, it seemed, save for Steve.

“I don’t want to wait for my number to come up,” Bucky said one morning as they lay together and listened to the rain. It was too cold in their tiny apartment for heating. Under the blankets had always been enough for them. And in bed Bucky could tuck his head under Steve’s chin, as if he were the smaller one. “I'm barren without our Beta. They’re going to call for me soon. When I go, I want it to be because I decided to go.”

Steve tightened his grip around Bucky’s waist. Shame at his own inadequacies warred with pride for his fierce, stubborn, brave Omega. “I’ll try to enlist again. I think there’s an enlistment office in the Bronx -- the doctor’s half-blind. He’ll let me through.”

“Steve, he’d have to be all the way blind,” Bucky said.

“Hey!” He reached around and gave Bucky’s ass a pinch, causing the Omega to yelp, then chuckle. “Pinned you down last night,” Steve growled.

“Now there’s an idea,” Bucky drawled, “I wonder if the doctor’s a Beta?”

 

****

 

When Steve first set eyes on Peggy, he knew she was the Beta he’d been waiting so long for. She was lovely, confident, driven, and he’d always had a weakness for brunettes. When she knocked Hodges flat on his ass, he was smitten.

He didn’t have much experience chatting pretty Betas up without Bucky for backup, but she didn’t recoil when he tripped over his words.

“You have an Omega, don’t you?” she asked on their car ride to the lab. She nodded to the copper wedding ring on his finger. Copper for Omega, silver for Beta, gold for Alpha.

Steve smiled down at it. “Bucky,” he said, then amended. “Well, James--but everyone calls him Bucky.”

“What did he have to say about you volunteering for experimentation?”

“He’s overseas,” Steve said, “Serving. But… he’d yell at me, probably.”

Peggy's eyebrows lifted. Stereotypical Omegas were docile, empathetic creatures. Bucky did care, but he’d always had his way of showing it.

“Well,” she said, “I’d like to see that.”

 

****

 

Sometimes, during the long empty hours of the USO tour, Steve liked to imagine how life would be when the war was over.

He’d imagine Sunday mornings waking up with Bucky and Peggy. Going to church with the kids in tow (two, a boy and a girl, and both with their Omega and Beta parents hair and eyes), and returning after to their warm home. The children would be rambunctious, but Bucky would corral them smoothly, while Steve and Peggy cooked breakfast and washed dishes. Maybe Steve would take the children to the ballpark and throw a ball around, give his husband and wife a break.

Steve didn’t know if he’d ever see Peggy again, and when the next time Bucky would get leave, but the house in his mind would be warm and full of love.

Things never ended up remotely as he imagined they would.

When he found Bucky, he was strapped to a lab table, and when he _finally_ managed to get Bucky and Peggy to meet, they developed an instant dislike of one another.

Well, perhaps dislike was too strong of a word. Antipathy was closer.

It started when Bucky showed up, scruffily shaved and still thread-worn, to the bar. He hadn't shared everything that had happened to him in the HYDRA lab. It worried Steve, but he figured a night dancing would set him back to rights. He just needed to get Bucky's head out of the prison.

Peggy showed up dolled up in red, looking like a million bucks. Bucky took one look at Steve, put on his game face, and asked her to dance. She looked him up and down, a scruffy war-weary Omega, then deflected in favor of Steve, before making an excuse to retire for the night.

“Well,” Bucky said, his jaw clenching slightly. He turned back to the bar and gestured for the bartender to pour him another shot. “This is a like a nightmare. I’m turning into you.” His words were cutting, but he didn’t seem to care, just as if Peggy were another Beta who’d been stupid enough (in his mind) to reject Steve.

But she wasn’t just _some_ Beta. She was Peggy, and she was perfect for them.

“She’s had it hard,” Steve said. “She has to play everything close to the chest, being surrounded by all these meatheads.”

Bucky shrugged. “Music’s playin’, Captain,” he said, nodding to the band. “You want to show me what this new body of yours can do?”

Later, that night, Steve took him to his private tent (rank did have privileges), and showed him even more of what his new body could do. It wasn't like old times -- Steve could have never deftly held Bucky in place while he pounded into him, brought him to come, then held himself off to do it all over again --  but afterwards as they lay knotted together, Bucky's eyes were free of shadows.

He kissed Steve in the same languid way he had when they were seventeen, and Steve knew in his bones that things would turn out alright.

 

****

 

Months later, after Steve had failed to grab Bucky before he slipped away from him. Steve sat alone in a bombed out bar, staring down at the copper ring on his finger, and felt like someone had ripped out his heart.

Peggy came by to try to stir him out of some of his numbness by telling Steve that it was Bucky’s choice to follow him into war, and to honor his choice in serving.

Steve gazed at her, seeing the tears hiding behind her eyes, and knew she was grieving only because _Steve_ was in pain. Her grief was for Steve, not for Bucky’s sake alone. Not as if she would had she been their true Beta.

Steve had been such a fool. He still loved her, in his own way, and Peggy was a good woman, but she’d never been _theirs_.

Now his husband was gone, and Steve was alone. All he had left to him was revenge.

It was almost a relief to realize the Valkyrie needed to be taken down ice. There may have been an alternative to get back to shore, but Steve didn’t search very hard.

 

****

 

When he woke up seventy years in the future, he was truly alone. The only thing he had left of Bucky was the copper wedding ring, signifying he’d married an Omega.

Bucky's name was on the SHIELD wall of heroes, and Steve spent near to an hour staring up at it, twisting the ring around his finger.

Alpha -- Head of the marriage, the protector and moral core. He'd failed in every one of his sacred duties. How could he be Captain America -- how could he let anyone put him up on a pedestal when he'd failed in everything he'd promised Bucky? Failed, even, to find their Beta.

A few days later, he met Tony.

 


End file.
